


It can Never be the Same

by NuttyAngst



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:38:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6036430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuttyAngst/pseuds/NuttyAngst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford is finally home, he allows Stanley to stay in the shack to watch the kids for the Summer. He stays in the basement most of the time, only eating when Stanley forces him to come up, until one day he notices Stanley isn't calling for him to get breakfast, nor did he smell anything cooking all day. Had Stanley run away again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home at Last

**Author's Note:**

> Please be patient, I try to write more every day, but I really want this to be good, and I won't post unless I feel it's worth putting up.

Bright, inhuman light shined into Stanford’s eyes, forcing him to throw up his hands until he could see again, after the blindness waned he stared, a portal had formed, cautiously he stepped closer, it would take him somewhere else, perhaps his own universe, maybe even his home. No one on earth would create a new one, no one could without his notes. He’d needed help himself to even come up with the idea and another’s help to begin the project. Stanford made very careful and deliberate steps toward the portal, it might not have been tested for live tissue, it could kill him, or it could get him back home.

Walking through calmly, he didn’t stop until he could plant his foot onto something, something other than the ground, that would prove he’d really gone through, that the mind games were finally over. The clink of metal caused a wave of relief to wash over him, no more dust, sand or weirdness storms. The hood came down, then his goggles and breathing mask. Suddenly he heard his brother speak.  
  
“The author of the journals, my brother.” Stanley smiled, walking over “Poindexter!” he shouted attempting to hug the other.

Stanford punched Stanley away from him, grunts from the fight sounded until he pinned Stanley to the ground, his knuckles white with the anger he’d harbored all the thirty years he’d been gone. He pushed Stanley down and then got up. “How could you do that?! Did you not read the warnings in my journals?” his face flushed in anger.

“Hey! How about a thank you? I just saved you!” Stanley frowned. “I’m sorry it took me thirty years, but I worked every night!”

“The author!” Dipper shouted excitedly.  
  
“Children? Stanley you didn’t tell me there were kids in here, who else knows about this place?” he went over, shaking Mabel’s hand and politely glancing at Dipper.

“Stanley? But Grunkle Stan your name is Stanford.” Mabel looked up at the man she’d just barely learned to trust again.  
  
“You took my name too?! What have you-! You know what? I don’t care. Kids, please go to bed, I’ve got a lot of things to discuss with Stanley.” He shooed them and Soos out of the room, when the vending machine closed back he turned to Stanley. “Listen, don’t interrupt and just listen.” He began “I don’t know who those kids are, but they’re still family, so you can stay in this shack and watch them during the summer, however when the summer ends and their bus, or parents, take them back where they go? You’re gone. You are going to leave my house and any shenanigans you got into while you were here end.”

“No, Ford you can’t be serious! I’ve spent the last 30 years trying to save you, and I’ve built an entire life here where you left off, we can finally be together like we used to!” he smiled, hoping he could convince the other. “We can build the Stan-o-War II and sail off and spend the last years of our lives together instead of here, or here and you can do your projects and I’ll even help!”

“Summer, then you’re gone Stanley. I don’t have time to care for you or the children. I need to continue my work to make sure Bill never invades this world.” He went to his journals, picking them up and going upstairs to find another blank book, which he planned to be the fourth.


	2. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford gets his journal's together, he'd just come back from another dimension and he has to write it all down before he starts to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Note: I will describe what I think might have been in the other dimension, take it for what you will, none of this is canon, and if you have ideas feel free to leave a comment.

After getting set up he went back to the basement, lay out his paper on the desk, taped it down, and began drawing. He wanted to document the other world. He began drawing his living area, noting all the strange uses for everything. He made sure to detail everything he remembered about the space, on the sides he noted the size, the shape, and even the usual temperature of the place. The next few pages he kept drawing places, but as he did it got less and less detailed, sloppier with his tiredness catching up to him. Standing he stretched and yawned, slumping over as he walked over to the stairs, holding the wall for support as he climbed. He entered the ground floor, slowly looking at all the changes, flinching at a few of the fouler smelling, or obviously faked attractions. “I can’t believe you did this to my home Stanley.” He muttered, going into the kitchen and opening the fridge, all he saw was Pitt Cola, some pancake mix, and a few other breakfast items. He took a Cola and drank it quickly, he’d missed the soda and once it was gone he stalked up to his bedroom, surprised to see Stan in the bed, enough room left for him. He lay down, as far away from Stan as possible, and fell asleep.

The next morning Stanford was woken by shouts from downstairs.   
  
“Stanford! I made breakfast, get down here and eat before Mabel gets it all!” Stanley called. The smell filled the shack easily, making everything warm and inviting.

Ford got up and went to his dresser, realizing none of his old clothes, except sweaters, could fit him anymore. He pulled on a new sweater and dusted himself off a bit. He looked around his room, now illuminated by the sun in the window. It looked almost identical to when he’d left it, a few of his things moved and nothing covered in dust, he almost smiled, Stanley had cared for his things while he was gone. He went downstairs and entered the kitchen and noticed his plate, bacon, eggs, pancakes, and some toast. He sat down and ate quietly, watching Mabel with her special ‘Mabelcakes’. “What are those?”

“Oh! They’re Mabelcakes! Pancakes covered in glitter!” she smiled, cutting one up. “They’re not for eating, they’re for looking.” After cutting them up she began to eat her eggs and bacon. She was wearing her usual shooting star sweater and headband, but she’d decided on her nacho earrings this time.

Dipper was in his nightclothes still, eating happily. “Grunkle Stan, are you going to go to the lake with us again today?”

“No kids, I think I need to stay here and make sure the shack has its showman to keep people entertained, how about we just go next weekend? We can make it a camping trip.” He smiled at them. “It’ll be like last time; except this time, you don’t get an excuse to leave your old Grunkle alone all day.” His smile turned a bit sad, but then returned to its usual toothy grin. “Alright kids, get out, go play or mess with my merchandise or find mysteries.” He told them, watching as they got up.

“They are cute kids.” Stanford commented. He finished his food and stood as well, placing his plate in the sink. “Call for me at dinner, or if something happens, I have to go downstairs.” He grabbed a glass and filled it with water, taking it downstairs and setting it on the side so he could drink if he was thirsty. He spent the day continuing to draw the other world, ignoring any noises he heard, as long as Stanley or the kids didn’t call for him he didn’t care what was happening.

He starts with the remaining rooms of his dwelling, it hadn’t been bad, but he was never sure how to describe it in words, it was like a cave, but also like a regular, if not desolate, home. He drew as well as he could, he’d made bedding from a soft almost sponge like material that he’d found, a blanket from what closely resembled fluffy leaves. The rooms were absolute, with doorway like connections, but the front being completely exposed to the outside weather. The outer walls were made of some sort of gem-like material, shining and illuminating the entire complex during the day, and giving a soft and haunting glow during the night. It had been warm, he guessed around seventy-two degrees on an almost constant basis, even if he was standing in the entrance the temperature wouldn’t change until he was past the cave like lips. He drew and redrew until he was happy with it, though he was still disappointed, it was so hard to capture.

The first time he looked at the clock it was midnight, he then looked at the glass of water and noticed he hadn’t taken a drink. Then another thought struck him, Stanley hadn’t called him for dinner. “Hm.” He expected it was a small version of revenge, he again went to bed.


	3. Sunshine and Late Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanford decides to spend some time relaxing outside. When the kids see him staring into the distance however, he's forced back into the basement to write more about the past.

The next morning was Sunday, Stanford looked out, and seeing the warm pink sunrise, casting an inviting glow on the usually creepy forest, he decided that today would be his rest day. After eating breakfast, he went out on the porch and sat in the rocking chair, relaxing for the first time in a very long time. As he stared into the brightening forest he got lost in his memories; Stanford always pushed himself so hard, needing to be the best, needing to outdo everyone, to be the smartest. He had to succeed and go to the big college, then get a good job and make his family proud. Then Stanley ruined his chance, he felt so angry, despite the anger he felt for his brother, the night Stanley had been kicked out he actually slept in Stanley’s bed. He’d woken the morning after with his eyes feeling dry and cracked, when he finally got up and saw himself in a mirror he thought he could never allow himself to look that bad again. He’s the good twin, he’s the one that will make everyone proud. He had no time to look like an absolute mess.  
The memories cut off as the kids started laughing and playing near the wood line, joking around about gnomes and lake monsters. He settled on watching them for a while, but they seemed almost uncomfortable when they noticed him, he waved and smiled, as he assumed was normal, but the waves of ill comfort reached him still. Standing slowly, he frowned, it hurt a bit that his Grand-niece and nephew didn’t like him. Maybe he’d been staring while he was daydreaming. He entered the house, going back down to the basement to continue working on the other dimension.

He expanded the cave entrance in the next few pages, drawing gnarled trees and noting that their texture was that of fur. The ground was usually soft, almost rotted around the trees, the sponge material he had found for bedding growing in the rotting material. Looking around small flower like vines grew on the outside of the cave, they were nearly translucent, matching and even enhancing the beauty of the cave itself, they also seemed to bear strange fruits in random intervals.   
Drawing the fruits was hard, he described it as close as he could to other foods he knew. One tasted the closest to a strawberry, always sweet, but it rotted minutes after it was picked, the fruit was rock hard on the outside, but under the hard layer was soft and juicy, it could fill someone up for an entire day.   
Another fruit resembled a banana, but didn’t grow in bunches, it didn’t peel either, much more sour than the strawberry like fruit he didn’t eat it much, but it was a wonderful sleep aid for when the creatures decided to be loud. Some he’d picked on his first day in the dimension were still ripe and edible when the portal opened up.   
The third and last fruit was much more like a lychee, but it was blue and the insides were filled with water; Stanford had assumed was water, it tasted like it and hadn’t killed him from drinking. He’d discovered it had alcoholic properties after creating a small reservoir and drinking from it for a few years, as it aged it became stronger and stronger, the taste going from water to sweetness and he shuttered to think if he had kept some for the entire time and tried to drink; Even with how sweet it would be, it would kill him almost instantly.

He eventually fell back into his memories again, trying to fashion weapons and tools from the strange walls of his home, unable to make them due to the trees being filled with not solid wood, but with a hard plastic like material he couldn’t scratch or chip. He eventually gave up, resolving to try and plant more of the vines so he had a better food supply. It didn’t work, not for the first few years, he needed to chip the cave walls and put the fruit in it in order for a new vine to grow. He tired of the taste quickly, but it was his only food, and he wasn’t going to leave this place, where he’d been sent; he needed to make sure his portal was never opened, and if it was the person that caused it would pay.  
_Stanley._ the thought was sour in his mind, his mouth was dry, making the taste worse. He’d tried since they were young to support his brother, thinking it was cute when Stanley cheated, proud when he beat up bullies, happy to box with him and be worse than him at something. Stanford never realized that it was actually hurting Stanley when he did that, not until he had been pulled into the office, with the offer for West Coast Tech. He always hated the swing set after that conversation, never returning to it.   
Slowly he realized he was staring at his younger self and Stanley. They were talking, but instead of Stanford telling his brother he was going to college; he was agreeing to go sailing for money and women and adventure with him. Maybe that would have been the best choice. He would have never met Bill, but then someone else might have, and the world would be in more danger if someone less capable-

He jolted awake, frantically looking around, his neck popping as he did. He sighed in relief, he was in the basement and he was safe. Looking at his smudged drawings he frowned, picking them up and throwing them away. Stanford looked at the clock “Five AM, I suppose it’s time for me to call it quits.” He went and lay next to Stanley once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanford finally decides to start spending time with everyone.

The next morning only the smell of pancakes woke him, when he went downstairs the kids almost flinched as he entered, Stanley wouldn’t look at him. “Is everything alright?” he asked them.

Mabel and Dipper just nodded, but Stanley was blunter with his answer. “Ford why were you staring at the kids like that yesterday?”

“Like what? I wasn’t staring at the kids yesterday, I was enjoying a nice sunny Sunday- Sunday right?” he looked at the kids, as if they’d answer him. “I was staring into nothing; I may have been looking in their direction but I wasn’t actively staring.”

“Just don’t do it again, it made them uncomfortable, and-” I _promised to protect them from anything, if that has to include you, then it has to._ Stanley’s stare was piercing; one he’d often give to anyone who tried to hurt Stanford himself in their younger years.

He glared right back. “Don’t look at me like that Stanley, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, they simply took my daydreaming as staring.” Stanford grabbed the plate he knew was his, and went toward the basement for another day of lonely writing.

At around one PM Stanley came down the stairs. “Look I didn’t mean to blame you, they were scared, and I’m protective. I brought you lunch Ford, just relax a little, you’re so much different now…”

Stanford stared up at Stanley, and for a moment they were both children again, building the Stan-o-War, they were as happy as they had ever been, or could ever be. Stanford blinked back to reality and saw that Stanley had left the room, he hadn’t even heard the heavy steps up the stairs, or the vending machine shutting back. The sandwich sat there, and Stanford ignored it.

The next time Stanford saw Stanley was two days later, Stanford hadn’t really slept or ate, and he had only come up for a snack, he knew if he didn’t eat he’d die, but he still wanted to do so as little as possible. “Good morning, Stanley.” There was no answer from his brother as he got into the fridge and took another Pitt Cola. “Stanley you drink too many of those.” Stanford huffed a bit.

“Why do you care? How do you even know? You haven’t seen the light of anything but that desk lamp in two entire days. I’m worried about you Sixer-”

Stanford grabbed Stanley by the collar and pulled him close, “Don’t you ever. Ever. Use that name for me again, got it?” he dropped his brother. “I’m going back downstairs.” He grabbed what was left over from the night before and stalked downstairs.  
That night he wrote about the sky; how many colors it could change into. In what he’d learned to call the morning the sky turned a beautiful almost baby blue, just as bright as the edges of the horizon in the middle of a normal day. During the middle of the day it would change depending on where you were, the sky was streaked with so many colors in some places, and a full solid in others, Stanford had loved walking around and looking at it, wandering past his usual boarder to get a look at one new color. Eventually when the deep green of dusk came he had to return to his cave before the purple night settled in. From what Ford had seen, the planet he was on was devoid of any stars other than the one that warmed it. Ford had searched all he could but never found a white dot in the night or day skies.  
Next to describe was the weather, it was relatively normal, but it never snowed or hailed. The only two things it ever did was rain or be sunny. Some years would go without sun and others without rain, it didn’t seem to effect the plants growth cycle at all. The rain was always heavy and large, creating pools in minutes or sometimes less. He’d always go out and gather the water, which seemed to be one of the few things that were the same from earth, it tasted like regular water. He drank it often, he didn’t know why, but he sweat a lot more in that world.  
Closing the book he looked at the clock, it was only ten PM. He looked up the stairs, he could hear the television. Standing up Stanford slowly walked up to the gift shop, peaking around the corner at Stanley and the kids. They’d curled up to watch a movie, “Can I join you?” he asked suddenly.

Stanley, Dipper, and Mabel all looked at him at once. “Sure.” Though his brother didn’t sound too excited, Stanley still agreed.

“Uh… okay Grunkle Ford. I’m not sure if you’d like it though.” Dipper agreed, moving slightly closer to Mabel as he spoke.  
“Come on Grunkle Ford, you can sit on Grunkle Stan’s other side, so you can see better…” that clearly wasn’t the reason she wanted him to do that.

He walked around his brother’s chair and sat in the floor next to him, looking at the movie for a few minutes before seeing the pig. “What is that thing doing in my house?” he asked, his eyes going straight to Stanley, as if the other could have actually wanted such a thing.”

“That’s Waddles, Grunkle Ford. He’s our pet pig!” Mabel answered for Stanley, watching for Stanford’s reaction carefully.

“Well… can you move him? I can’t see with him in the way.” He would have told Stanley to throw it out, but the kids already hated him, he might as well try to make their stay pleasant.

Mabel stood and walked over to Waddles, picking him up and moving him into Stanley’s lap, with a small groan from Stanley he smiled a bit at the pig. He enjoyed it, despite all his complaints.

After the movie Stanley went and tucked in the children, “Ford, thanks for coming up and watching that with us, I know you probably hated it, but it meant a lot to them, they see you as a person now, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, but you gotta remember that interacting with people is the best way to get them to, ya know, not hate you.” Stanley smiled. “Come to bed early tonight?” he asked, rubbing his neck a bit when Stanford didn’t answer immediately. “For-” he smiled softly, a bit more understanding, Stanford had hated the movie, it had put him to sleep altogether. “Nerd.” Stanley picked his brother up and carried him off to bed.


End file.
